


Rise of the Oracle

by TheKittyEmpurror



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:48:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22586623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKittyEmpurror/pseuds/TheKittyEmpurror
Summary: Her human in a blood soaked pit riddled with bodies protected by a knight sworn to his ideals.Her human dancing with her till they become one, their unified minds, souls, and purpose become one in a blaze of white to become more.Her human in a pit with a bloodthirsty audience demanding be fought with no sword or shield but a knight that followed him because of his might, guile, and vision.Her human presence announced by the yells of a newly discovered art guided by his hand, by giving purpose to once thought a pest he earned their undying loyalty.Her human earning the respect of a colossal beast through, but a sacrifice of his eye.Her human sinking in the abyss of a deep lake only for a shimmering rainbow of scales to uplift him for the depths he sank.Her human working to create life from inanimate and anathema, giving up his twisted and mangled leg to give motion to his creation.~~~A man wakes by a lake front with nothing but the clothes on his back and unavailable to remember his home, left only with the wisdom built up form his previous life along with a harshly twisted ankle.A Ralts cutoff form her home.Fate ties them.
Kudos: 2





	Rise of the Oracle

The sound of my lock turning is like music to my ears. A dull ache in my shoulders urges me to pull my key out of the lock and open the unlocked door quicker.

My shoulders hunched from the weight of my backpack draws me to the couch that I positioned near the door to collapse on after a long day at college. A smile cracks on my lip and a mad chuckle escapes. It soon becomes a cackle as I destress in a mess of laughter induced tears. 

I passed! I'm going to fucking graduate! My thesis held up!

My head aching from the stress, anxiety, lack of sleep, and admittedly a less than healthy diet recently. 

I put my phone on a charger. The screen lights up, showing the name of one of my friends asking about meeting up tomorrow to celebrate. I ignore it for now, shifting the responsibility to respond to tomorrow morning. For now I lay my backpack near the door and close my eyes to let exhaustion take me. 

~~~

A young Ralts pants as she pushes through the underbrush. Her curious nature led her to be separated from the safety of her colony. She swore she saw her favorite berry resting high up in a tree but by the time she made her way all the way up it the fog that ensured her species's safety vanished under the sun's heat. 

Ralts that got separated from the colony rarely make it back, never to be seen again. Hunted by nearly every living beast for an easy meal. Too young to fight back. Too young to outrun what chases her. Her only choice is to try to find her way home while hiding in the underbrush with the rest of the prey. 

Her eyes burn with tears born from frustration and fear as she pushes past a brush that reveals a beautiful lake. She smacks her dry lips. When was the last time she had water? Earlier this morning is the last time she can remember. 

The Ralts glances around the lake. She can see a herd of Wooloo being guided to the waterfront by Dubwool and Indeedee. 

They seem nice enough… the Wooloo bleat and prance together bouncing around the Dubwool who tolerate their good nature playfulness with gruffness. She watches as they go to the water in pairs drinking their fill before backing away while the Dubwool keep a wary eye on the water. Why are they watching it so suspicio-

It takes only a moment to understand why. 

An impossibly fast pillar of water hits one of the Wooloo only to be stopped by a pane of translucent psychic energy but not before one of the Wooloo is drenched. She's seen the elder Gardevoir use something similar to protect a small gather of Ralts form a swooping Pelipper but this time the screen shatters forcing one of the Indeedee to fall while holding his head. 

What broke it was a small fish, it's fangs quickly buried in the Wooloo's fur dampening the worst of the bite. 

This happened so quickly that only now as the fish tries to bite deeper that the Wooloo begins to scream in fear and pain. The joyful playing and bantering now screams of panic and fear. The Dubwool charge together, one holding the screaming and kicking Wooloo down as the other Dubwool gathers will and power onto it's horns than with a swift jerk of its head the fish is ripped off the bleating Wooloo and tossed back into the lake with a mouth of wool and a hint of red. 

The young Ralts watches, horrified and scared. She's never seen such ruthlessness before. The Gardevoir only defends the Ralts, never hunting or preying on beast and man. They prefer to be left alone and allowed to flourish and to live happy lives in a quiet Mist filled clearings. 

She can feel the feelings of satisfaction from the fish, she can feel the Wooloo fresh and raw pain from the chunk missing from its shoulder. The worst prevented by the screen lessening the momentum of the fish and the fluffy wool preventing the fangs from burying deeper in. 

She continues to watch, unavailable to tear her eyes and mind away from the Wooloo crying on the ground. The Indeedee brings fruits then crush them in their hands, putting the pulp into the wound. The Ralts winces, her mind feeling what the Wooloo feels in a futile attempt to comfort it by sending her own calming emotions towards it but she is nothing but calm, tears run down her face form the intensity of it. The pain is raw and the plup makes the wound burn but it quickly grows numb leaving only fear. 

She loses sight of the Wooloo as the herd gathers round it but she feels the warm company of others letting her know it'll be ok. 

The herd retreats from the lakefront leaving a scared and crying Ralts hiding in the bush. 

A familiar screech draws her eyes to the sky. The sound of space being grasped and controlled by something. Instead of being pressed and squeezed, forced into a spec of nothing that only purpose is to consume. Cracks forms in the sky. 

The crack splits into a brilliant white maw that drops a body onto the shore of the lake. She's never seen a Child of Arceus that looks quite like it but she's heard rumors of men. Similar to a Gardevoir in body but taller and a head of brown hair. Pale skin with a detached coat around it's chest that's now covered in mud. Blue fur from the waist down that ends with bare feet though she notices something off. She doesn't think the ankle is supposed to bend like that. 

Her stomach drops once she realizes where the creature dropped. Right into the water. It hurts, obviously the fish will attack. She knows the type that the fish is for the Elders warnings. They only strike the weak, injured and young. 

She runs out of the bush towards the strange creature. She spots in the distance water churning in a straight line towards the body lying limp in the sand. Panic rises in her throat as she kneels down digging her small hands into the detached fur of the creature. Using the tiny amount of strength in her body and the small font of power that she taps into effect the world. She drags the body back to the trees while keeping her eyes firmly on the water. Once she feels the leaves of the bush she feels her mind and body slackens from exhaustion. 

Normally anything so young would have gained back their energy after a short period of rest but both her body and her mental well of energy only drips in. A lack of food and water making their effects much more pronounced. 

She collapses onto the dirt panting lightly as the dull pounding of her head becomes too much. She can't rest just yet. There is no telling what would try to get a piece of this creature for a meal, the wilds are filled with so many different creatures she is sure she's never seen them all. 

She tries to drag it farther away from the shore into the treeline but it is simply too big for her tiny body. 

Why is it limp? Normally anything would have woken up form so much jostling and pulling. Is.. it dead? 

No… it can't be. It's not bleeding. There's no sign that anything hurt it besides it's foot. No blood, no signs of a struggle, no poison. She's very good at detecting poison because poisonous things make her skin crawl and she can touch it just fine. 

Maybe I'm tired and asleep? Wait! Check if its heart is beating… but some things don't have a heart so that can't be a sign if it's alive. It might be like a walking plant or an Anathem. Anything is fine at this point… 

The young Ralts intently focuses on the creature that she saved from the river side and it's then that she notices the rise and fall of its chest through the thin layer of detached fur. 

It's alive! 

The Ralts cheered with joy. The happiness of something, anything there to keep her company, was the last drop that doomed the dam of her self control. The tears started small but soon she goes limp with her head in it's hand seeking any warmth. A childish need to be held. 

She wants to be held and told everything is ok. She wants to laugh and play carefree. She wants to feel the love of her kind and the kindness that they freely give. 

The hand moves in response, lightly caressing the top of her head. The fingers feel different from a Kirlia or a Gardevoir. Thinner, more delicate, and move seemingly in a creepy manner but she doesn't care. The sensation is followed by muffled warmth and confusion. It's awake.

No. _He's_ awake. 

~~~

I wake to blackness, a hellish throbbing form my left ankle, and a parched throat. I don't remember where I feel asleep at night but pressed against one of my palms is fluffy fur. My hand moves on its own gently stroking the fur with a seeming familiarity. Once again I can't remember what is fluffy and I enjoy petting but in my tired, pain riddled, state I can't gather the energy to care. 

It feels like I'm laying in the grass. A cool breeze flows past my face that carries the scent of nature telling me I'm not inside. A quiet childlike son forces me to open my eyes and begin to look for the source of it only to find a head of blue hair, a pair of red horns, and a white curled up body pressed against my outsplayed palm. 

That's… not normal. None of this is. What the absolute fuck is going ok? 

I try pulling my hand away so the sob grows louder as the small not right child hugs onto my hand tighter. My heart sinks at the action. It feels too cureal so instead I reach over to hook both my hands under the small body of the child. God it's light. My… someone's baby I held weighed more than this does. 

Surrealism begins to creep in as I hug the small child to my chest. My body is more moving as if it's a dream than under my command as I hug the child to my chest, rocking it side to side gently as I ignore the growing pain in my ankle. I refuse to look at it for the time being. One thing at a time. 

"Shhh… it's ok. Shh. No reason to cry, everything's ok. Everything's alright." The surreal focus on comforting the strange child fades allowing my focus to shift from it to the surroundings. 

Green. The most greenery I've seen in my life. I try to think back to what was the second but I come up blank. This… is all too strange. In front of me is a large pond or a small lake. I honestly don't know the difference but there's something strange about it. 

It's too clear. It looks more like an impossibly large pool than a natural lake. It looks clean enough to drink and right now a cold drink sounds godly.

My attention is drawn back down to the small child curled up against my chest. The surreal feeling blankets my consciousness making my next actions seem more like a dream. 

I glance over to the lake and feel fear grip my heart with an iron fist. The sudden spike of terror digging it's grip farther in my chest forces my breath to come in deep jagged gasp as the phantom sensation of something biting my leg flares causing me to inefficiently try to tug on my left leg. It won't move right. 

The surreal dream like state fades leaving me out of breath and desperately trying to recollect my thoughts. What the absolute hell? That was terror. Not some cheap jump scare but genuine fear for my life. 

I look back to the lake only to feel the phantom sensation of how I imagine having sharp teeth buried in my leg would feel. It's dangerous but I do not know why. 

I take another glance to the lakeside feeling a subtle panic this time but that's enough to turn my head away and focus on something else. Like the small child still pressed against my chest. 

Blue hair. That doesn't seem right? A strange hair accessory resembling horns. It's...hard to see where they would clip or a band it's wearing. The next part hints at something unnerving and inhuman. Alabaster white skin on its face, no hint of color but the skin continues downwards with no hints of clothing. It's chest feels smooth but when I run my hand down I feel a thin layer of fur. 

It's… not human. That's very obvious. Something in the back of my head tells me it's not normal, it shouldn't be real, but a gut feeling tells me it's harmless. It's more a guess or a hunch but it's a persistent feeling whenever I look at it.

Safety, warmth, love, family. 

I close my eyes and count to ten. 

I only got halfway there when a spike of white hot agony climbs up my leg than up my spine leaving me slightly panting. Guess I can't ignore my foot anymore. 

I look down to my splayed out leg. Oh… oh god. Fuck that is bad. My left ankle is twisted so it's facing the opposite way it's supposed to go. I can't move anything from the ankle down and as if it were waiting for my attention, a more intense wave of pain wrecks my leg leaving me in tears. It looks like someone tried twisting my foot off. I can't imagine the internal damage… I'm never going to walk again. No fucking amount of surgery will fix that. 

The disgust, pain, and revulsion nearly overflow to the point of losing my lunch but the surreal film comes over me again. A soothing presence calms my disgust and forces me to look away from the twisted mess of my foot. 

Deal with it later. The pain is oddly not that bad. Focus on getting an idea on how to survive. 

Water and shelter. 

Water… is not something achievable at the moment. Shelter is something I can focus on. Maybe a cave or at least some big branches that I could try to build something out of?

It feels like a dream for the time being but that dulls the pain so it's a welcome feeling. My mind is fuzzy and lightly buzzing with a strange static that makes thinking coherent lines of logic difficult. 

I put the strange human-like creature down so I can try to haul my body to a tree. It stands form where I sat it down and follows me, sticking close by and since it's not bothering or stopping me I let it be. 

It takes a few minutes to haul myself to a tree, having to stop from time to time after bumping my foot against something and being forced to ride out the waves of agony. Still I manage to get to a decently sized tree and haul myself to a standing position on my good foot while using the tree as support.

I see nothing really new but the new height gives the small creature a new feeling of frailty. It's so small. Barely comes up to my knee while I stand. 

I look around for a river feeding into the lake, squinting my eyes in an attempt to make anything out but I see nothing. Either this lake is filled by rain or an underwater source. 

I slowly slink back down, taking care not to give my foot any reason to try to kill me with pain. At some point I'm going to get so thirsty I won't mind whatever danger is near or in the lake. 

I… don't know what to do. I don't know how to survive out here, I don't even know how to make a fire. Something to do with friction, I think? 

Shelter and water. Food can be ignored for the time being but you die quicker from thirst. 

I drag myself around the tree line looking for long and impressive sticks. They are rare but I find a few. I also notice some other strange animals. A herd of spherical sheep bounding around happily while a handful of ram kept a close eye on them. 

A small flock of… well pigeons. Nothing impressive about them but I swear there's an intelligent gleam in their eyes. 

A small time later I finally find what I want, stick with the qualities of a walking stick. Long, straight, and importantly strong. 

I push myself up to my feet once more, well more just on my single good leg. I get a strong grip on my new stick and dig the tip into the loose soil. I slowly stop leaning on the tree, using my good leg and the stick for balance. Now for the real test. 

I take a step forward with my good leg than quickly move the stick forward so that I don't balance on a single leg too long. To my surprise it works but it's so slow. More of a hobby than walking but I'm standing and not crawling through the dirt which improves my mood a sliver. 

My attention is drawn downwards by a brief tug on my pant leg to the little one. Once it notices that it has my attention it points upwards to a tree. I where it's pointing to the sight of fruits high up in the tree. My stomach growls and it's followed by the little ones stomach. I… don't think I can climb but that's by far the easiest food we could hope for. 

I reach up to a tree limb that is barely in reach. My weak upper body strength is working against me as I try to haul myself up. I can't even do a pull up, can I? 

A few minutes of fruitless struggling to pull myself up I drop down, my arms burning and my thirst worse than it was before. 

I'm so fucked. I can't get food. I can't get water. I can't fucking walk right. This is just cruel. To be shoved into the wilds with no skills in surviving. All I have is fuzzy memories firm before I woke up, hunches, and constant pain which dims my mood more. 

A quiet trilling cry causes me to push myself off my back, holding my walking stick in my hands like a makeshift spear. Whatever that noise was, it sounded close. 

A quick look around ends with the little creature holding one of the berries on its arms, holding it out to me with a heartwarming smile. In the back of my head I swear I could feel the childlike worry and kindness exuding from the creature. 

Did it make that noise? 

It shoves the fruit onto my lap and looks up at me, tilting its head to the side. I lift the fruit up to my lips. It smells sweet. I take a bite and have to stop myself from moaning in ecstasy. I could get cavities eating these things everyday. I stop myself from ravaging the fruit, instead giving most of it to the little one. It looks confused so I just ruffle it's hair, the mouthful of it that I had was enough to take the edge off my hunger.

"You found it. You get the lion's share." _She_ worryingly looks down at the fruit than back up to me, thrusting her arms forwards offering the fruit again. She's like a child. 

I close her hands around the fruit then push it to her mouth, "Your family must be worried about you. Eat and go find them. I'm not going to be any help at all."

The struggles stop at the mention of family. She looks up to me, the blue hair falling to the side revealing large red and wet eyes. The color would have creeped me out if it wasn't for the fact that she's crying again. So I lifted her up onto my lap and began to stroke her hair, "Are they gone? Your family?" She nods, the fruit left forgotten on my lap. Great, the little nearly human thing is an orphan. 

I let out a long, agonizing sigh. This is something I can't handle. She's young, if I had to guess a toddler. Awkward movements, a small stature, and the size of her head in comparison to the rest of her body is literally like a toddlers if they were much thinner. I don't think she's malnourished because there is plenty of fat on her ribs but these are all assumptions. She's small. She's weak. Most importantly I can't protect or provide for her but it would be inhumanly cruel to deny her companionship. I'll admit there is a selfish desire to not be alone. 

After all, I'm only human. 

She also gives me something to focus on besides the ever throbbing pain. Thankfully the food helps take the bite of it, letting me focus more on our situation. 

"Eat the rest of the berry. I'm going to have you do a few things for me, alright?" She nods, a sudden determination coming over her expression. 

I point to the vines clinging to the tree, "Can you pull some of the vines off it? I'm gonna try to make us some shelter for the night." She nods, hops off my lap and the surreal film over my senses falls leaving me looking out at the beautiful lake and stuck with only my mind. 

While I lie there with my head the clearest it's been all day I can't help but wonder about a few things. 

Do I have a concussion? It would explain my impaired thoughts but not the moments of clarity. 

Why have I begun to think of the little creature as a she? Anthropomorphism is a thing people do subconsciously and the fact she already looks human enough probably doesn't help. 

Am I going to die out here? I look over to the little one who is inspecting the nearby trees for vines like I asked of her. I catch the fact that I'm smiling at her. I will not die if she has anything to say about it but ultimately it's my responsibility to guide her actions for the best chance of survival. She's young but she seems aware of what is safe to eat in the area, another reason that keeping her around is in my best interest. She can also walk but what she can haul is questionably though even in my state I could help with some cleverness. 

Now how did I end up like this? Mangled is the only state I could describe my ankle. Looking at the twisted, swollen and bruised mess that is my foot, I feel my stomach crawl up my throat with only my own will to keep it down. It's something you see in a horror film but no one is as agonizing as I expected. It hurts, it throbs, but as long as nothing touches it I should be fine. 

I watch as the little one wraps her hand around a vine and begins to tug violently on it, but the roots that the vine has dug deep into the bark of the tree. I take a few moments to enjoy watching the adorable struggle before speaking up.

"Little one, come here." She looks over and the surreal film sets over my mind once more. The last of the edge on my throbbing ankle fades. God I feel like I can taste color. 

She waddles over to my side then pushes her head against my side while taking care not to impale me with her horn. I run my hand through her hair with a small smile spreading wide at her affection, "Go get me a rock, something flat that can fit on my palm along with something I can sharpen it on." She tilts her head to the side, quietly trilling in confusion. I mime out the action of sharpening the rock on the other rock, "You can sharpen one rock on another so you can use it as a tool. Once I'm done sharpening it, you can cut the vines. Understand?" She hesitantly nods. 

Does she not understand tool use? Hopefully she doesn't lack the actual abstract understanding and the concept is simply new to her. 

It's strange, some animals can make a connection between a door handle and the door opening but lack the abstract reasoning to understand why it does. Some animals can watch and imitate a person's actions, a pet jumps up and somehow pulls the handle then puts the pieces together in their head but till then the handle is part of the obstacle. That's what makes humans so remarkable, understanding and reasoning. A person could reason that a strange metal thing in a door is different than the rest of the door for a reason than after testing themselves can learn how to open a door. 

It might also be that she's simply young and her brain is still developing… and that brings up issues of nutrients. 

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the weight of two rocks being sat in my hands. The little one trills quietly looking pleased that she did something I asked, "Thank you. Stick close but look for some fruits, alright? I want enough for us to have a nice meal before going to sleep and waking up." She nods happily than waddles off. 

The surreal fog in my head vanishes as if the wind spirited it away. The edge on the throbbing pain makes me let out a quiet hiss of pain before I shove it to the back of my mind and focus on the rocks in my hands along with a disturbing hypothesis. 

Is the little one the cause of the drug like haze that sets over me? It makes sense. The surreal haze sets in when she's near or I'm the subject of her focus. That brings up the question of how the hell she's doing it? Pheromones? Some weird vocal frequency? Mind control? 

Let's take a step back. Does it even matter? Without her I'm going to starve or something worse. So… for the immediate future no, no it does not matter. It does not seem malicious in nature nor does she seem to have any insidious intentions. 

So I put my clear headedness to better use, figuring out how to actually sharpen a rock. Vague memories of watching someone bashing two rocks against each other is all that I have to go on so I start with it.

Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.

I only pause in my mindless action to inspect my handiwork. I can't see any real difference honestly. I try running my finger over the edge of the rock only to feel the dull edge of the rock. Is there something I'm missing? Probably. Some technique to it but the mindlessness of it takes away form the gnawing boredom and the bite from the pain. So I continue to scrape but this time using friction and brute force over any strategy or technique. 

Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. Thud! 

I drop the stones while letting out a short yelp of pain as an automatic reaction to the rocks cutting the webbing in-between my thumb and pointer finger with my mindless strokes. 

Ah fuck that stung. It still stills. Ah that's a decent amount of blood. I should treat this quickly. 

Half walf through taking off my shirt the surreal fog sets over my mind denoting the arrival of the little one. She comes out from behind the tree painting, her head looking frantically side to side. I swear I can feel her panic, raw and intense. A gripping force in her chest that she's not used to at all and that makes the panic worse. 

I give her a smile as she makes eye contact with me, "I'm fine. Just cut myself. I wasn't paying attention and somehow I cut myself with a dull rock." I let out a self deprecating chuckle, "I'm really not fit to be out he-" The little one rushes towards me, looking over my hand worryingly, "Don't spread your fingers. More importantly, did you get some food?"

She nods again so I ruffled her hair with my good hand, "Well go get it th-" My words fall off as the little one grabs my hurt hand than brings the wounded web in-between my fingers to her lips. 

Overwhelming love. 

First I feel the soft thin layer of fur around her skin followed by my nerves being alight. My hand harshly tingles as the muscle in my hands locked up refusing to listen to my body's instinct to jerk away. Then briefly my hand feels like someone set it alight but then I only feel fur again. 

She pulls away to show my hand unbloodied with only a thin scar where I cut my hand with the rocks.

The experience leaves me manically chuckling. The little one just kissed my cut away. Maybe it's the surprise, maybe it's the shock, maybe it was the brief but intense pain but my frame is wrecked with manic laughter. Even the mist in my mind can't stop the laughter to fuel itself on my stress of finding myself in a jungle, crippled and unavailable to remember anything about my personal life and trusting my survival to a toddler. 

I laugh to the point that tears roll down my face but the hysterical laughter slowly dies leaving me gasping for breath as the little one watches with worry on my lap, "It's fine… just everything is setting in. Imagine waking up in a fantasy land where little mystical girls can heal with kisses and a lake fills you with enough dread that dying from dehydration is an option that you think about. So what other tricks can you do or did you get fucked on the super powers?" She simply tilts her head to the side, a worried frown etched on her lips. She reaches up to grab my face, turning my head side to side. We'll try, the strength in her arms is so pitiful that I move my head to where she wants. 

After whatever inspection she put me through she hugs my chest attempting to wrap both of her arms around me. I returned the hug carefully not to hurt her, "I'm alright. Just you took me by surprise, I've never seen something so amazing like th-" The haze recedes quickly as her arms go limp. My heart drops in panic at the sudden stillness of her figure. 

I quickly lay her down on my lap so I can check on her. The rise and fall of her chest is easy to spot, steady and deep. I can feel her heartbeat through her skin, one again steady and strong. Did healing me exhaust her? 

I look to the sky to try to figure out what time it is only to notice that the sun is not visible but set past the tree line. Is… it that late? 

A yawn forces its way past my lips, exhaustion fueled by my emotional outburst and maybe the healing itself creeps its way into my mind. 

The air is getting chilly but thankfully the tree line we are near dulls the harshest of the cold wind bite. I'm not dressed the best for mid spring but I don't exactly have a choice. My core body temperature is the most important so I laid down on the grass, gently moving the little one inside my shirt so we can at least share some warmth. I pull my arms into my shirt leaving my sleeves dangling in the grass. I rest one of my hands on the little ones head and the other one on her back. She's smaller and even with the thin layer of fur she would have difficulties keeping warm. The day sky gives way to night revealing a beautiful star traspey over the sky. 

I can't recognize any constellations. I'm really not home am I?

Sleep takes me quietly and peacefully with a small prayer to anyone who is listening that I won't be disturbed by a wild animal looking for an easy meal but I'm simply too exhausted to stay up any longer without a source of light or something to occupy my mind. 

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to write out this fiction's whole history with me but that would take too much time so I'll give a brief history. 
> 
> It went through two rewrites before I landed on his current state but this one stuck! Modern day Pokemon world was too restraining in some ways. I wanted to add legends of men and some of legends and it felt write to set it in ye oldie Galar for he sheer fact that I'm familiar with high fantasy settings and know how to make it feel real I think. I wanted war, and Kalas had war a thousand years ago. I wanted something looming and look at that, Shield and Sword had it along with so much visual history that was never really elaborated on so that gives me so much room. 
> 
> Side tangent about myself. I'm writing for fun, I'm a collage student so updates might be sparce at times, and im new to Ao3. I got the account at first to follow some stories but decided to post here so I don't know really what tags to add so anyone that wants to throw some out that fits that be nice.


End file.
